Hello Doctor
by Shadowed Voices
Summary: How would you like the meet the Doctor?
1. Chapter 1: Zoe

**I'm back kiddies! Well, okay not with Sherlock Arcade or Wonderland, but I'm back to writing fanfiction. I blame RL.**

**Anyway, not that any of you read this, but this was a question I posted to Tumblr:  
**

**How would you like to meet the Doctor? Ask me you name and I'll write you a ficlet.  
**

**So here is it, the ficlets. Each person will be posted in the order I have received the question. If you want to have your meeting up here review, PM me, or ask me your prompt on Tumblr. My name is superwhokidlock.  
**

**-Ray  
**

ZOE

There are so many colors, so many sides. There is always one green square on the yellow side. Two reds can never be on the same plain without moving at least three others of the same color. How, _how_ does one get a square to just flip ninety degrees in the middle?

Instead of throwing the infuriating cube through the window like she is so very tempted to do, Zoe messing up everything. No two colors are touching the same, except for three white in the corner of the red plain. It is an annoying, frustrating, pointless endeavor. The person that came up with it should be shot. Repeatedly. Zoe ducks her head; chestnut hair falling over her face as she diligently gets back to work on solving the Rubik's Cube. She had promised, after all, to solve the stupid thing by the week's end.

Well, it wasn't so much of a promise as a bet. She really doesn't like the prospect of losing.

"Hm. Well, if you move the green left and down, and the red to the bottom that will finish the white and if you then turn the red right two spaces, or left two, doesn't matter much, before shifting the over one, turn right…" the voice, light and happy, trails off in a string of mumbles as delicate fingers take the cube from her hands. Zoe looks up with a scowl into an angular face. Dark brown hair droops lazily into one eye, brows crinkling adorably in concentration, and lips moving in almost silent mutters. "Left…right…up, over one, down again…" She forgets for a moment that she is in her house and that this man is in her house. She forgets, too, the large blue box that she can just see out of the corner of her eye now that she is sitting up.

Zoe just stares. _He's solving her Rubik's Cube!_

Anger wells up unexpectedly, batting with relief at not losing the bet.

The man looks up, fingers stilling on the six-sided puzzle. Each side is solid. Each side has its own color. A sheepish grin settles onto his mouth as he carefully hands the completed cube back to its original owner. "Hello. I'm the Doctor." Zoe, mouth agape, stumbles out her name in reply.

"That is a very interesting game," the Doctor says cheerfully. "Would you like to travel with me?"


	2. Chapter 2: Angie

ANGIE

It's raining. Then again, it always seems to be raining these days.

Angie pulls her bag higher on her shoulders, hunching in attempt to avoid the worst of the downpour. It doesn't matter much. She is already soak and shivering, but it is instinct. When there is rain, one ducks.

Why did the bus have to break down? Why did that idiot have to steal her only umbrella? Why had she decided to work so far away from home? Why couldn't she have a car?

The thoughts, questions mumbled against the freezing rain, echo silently around her. The storm, unaffected, growls suddenly like an angry wolf. The shrieking wind withers under the forced of sound as the sky grows darker and then brighter, much to bright, suddenly. Barely a second passed between thunder and lightning, lightning that thankfully stayed in the clouds. Angie pulls her bag up and quickens her pace. Two miles until she reaches home. Just two miles.

A noise, like the wind and a train, but not, sort of whirring and vwooping and shouting like an excited child running through a field in spring, but also scared and warning, an urge to get out of the way when there is nowhere to go, while still differently, quiet and unearthly and impossible to hear over the rage of the storm. She still hears it, feels it in the thunder and sees it in the lightning. How could she not? There is nothing to see. There is nothing to hear. There is nothing to feel.

Something brushes the backs of her legs and too strong arms wrap around her from behind right before she would have fallen. She is pulled up, feet lifted off the ground and they fall. Converse covered feet kick a double set of blue doors shut to stop the oncoming rain. They are both breathing hard. Then Angie realizes that she is lying on this stranger in a place that shouldn't be there. She scrambles to her feet, eyes wide and slightly fearful. The man, for it is a man, grins and laughs breathlessly.

"Sorry 'bout that!" he says running a hand through brown hair. He stays on the floor, one knee bent and a foot pressed against the doors. "I lost control a bit. All's fine though! The old girl here wouldn't let me crash her into anyone!" He pats the floor in a soothing manner. "I'm the Doctor. Who're you?"


	3. Chapter 3: Suki

**How would you like to meet the Doctor? Ask me you name and a way, and I'll write you a ficlet.  
**

**Each person will be posted in the order I have received the question. If you want to have your meeting up here please review, PM me, or ask me your prompt on Tumblr. My name is superwhokidlock.  
**

**-Ray  
**

SUKI

The sun is pure glory. It glows from the bright blue, cloudless sky in the rolling waves of heat of summer. If the grass, all green and beautiful in her mind, is itchy and maybe a little bit pokey then it is easily ignored. If the scent of springtime flowers has been lost to a new season then it is easily conjured.

Suki drifts languidly through that half asleep place where dreams are made listening to imaginary bees humming in an imaginary tree. There is a tree, but it is pine and never flowers like the one in her neighbor's yard does. The bees are all that way, far to the left and maybe a little bit backwards. In that place between sleep and awake, with a warm summer breeze floating over her face and the sun shining cheerily from above, reality does not matter much. Or at all. Nope. None at all. Wind and sun and warmth and life and light.

It is wonderful.

Suki sleeps through the battle on the road outside her house. She's not sleeping really. The dream is just so entertaining, relaxed and peaceful. If there are shouts they do not register. If the assailant swears revenge on the strange man then it does not matter. The dream of summer, mostly just feelings and _not _sleep because there is no way she would _sleep_ through something like an alien battle on her road. There is no way. She would, however, admit to daydreaming through it.

After a while she can feel a presence at her side, maybe a foot away. There is nothing that should tell her he is there watching the sky. There is nothing to tell her, but she knows in the way that daydreamers do. "I love summer here," she whispers to the imaginary. "I would very much like to come back."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," the Doctor whispers back. He rolls over and grins, holding out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Suki."

"Pleasure, Doctor," she responds amiably, shaking his hand. They stand with hands still clasped and make a dash to the blue Police Public Call Box just on the other side of her fence. There is no fence but that is not a problem. The doors open with a click of his fingers and they enter.

"It's bigger on the inside," Suki says. The Doctor laughs joyously.

The sun is pure glory. It glows from the bright blue, cloudless sky in the rolling waves of heat of summer. If the grass, all green and beautiful in her mind, is itchy and maybe a little bit pokey then it is easily ignored. If the scent of springtime flowers has been lost to a new season then it is easily conjured.

Suki drifts languidly through that half asleep place where dreams are made listening to imaginary bees humming in an imaginary tree. There is a tree, but it is pine and never flowers like the one in her neighbor's yard does. The bees are all that way, far to the left and maybe a little bit backwards. In that place between sleep and awake, with a warm summer breeze floating over her face and the sun shining cheerily from above, reality does not matter much. Or at all. Nope. None at all. Wind and sun and warmth and life and light.

It is wonderful.

Suki sleeps through the battle on the road outside her house. She's not sleeping really. The dream is just so entertaining, relaxed and peaceful. If there are shouts they do not register. If the assailant swears revenge on the strange man then it does not matter. The dream of summer, mostly just feelings and _not _sleep because there is no way she would _sleep_ through something like an alien battle on her road. There is no way. She would, however, admit to daydreaming through it.

After a while she can feel a presence at her side, maybe a foot away. There is nothing that should tell her he is there watching the sky. There is nothing to tell her, but she knows in the way that daydreamers do. "I love summer here," she whispers to the imaginary. "I would very much like to come back."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," the Doctor whispers back. He rolls over and grins, holding out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Suki."

"Pleasure, Doctor," she responds amiably, shaking his hand. They stand with hands still clasped and make a dash to the blue Police Public Call Box just on the other side of her fence. There is no fence but that is not a problem. The doors open with a click of his fingers and they enter.

"It's bigger on the inside," Suki says. The Doctor laughs joyously.


	4. Chapter 4: Matt Smith

**How would you like to meet the Doctor? Ask me you name and a way, and I'll write you a ficlet.  
**

**Each person will be posted in the order I have received the question. If you want to have your meeting up here please review, PM me, or ask me your prompt on Tumblr. My name is superwhokidlock.  
**

**-Ray  
**

MATT SMITH

The office is empty, finally, and Dr. Smith settles back in his chair with an exhausted sigh. There are no windows here, only a dark brown door that reeks of professionalism, of sanity. He wishes it were not there. Sometimes, at night when he is half asleep slumped over his desk, he imagines painting it blue. He can see it, split down the middle with windows at the top. He can see the lights glowing comfortingly from inside and the sound of invisible laughter that he can almost hear.

His office should be smaller, but bigger. He's still a little startled whenever he walks in and sees that it is still twelve by thirteen. Sometimes he gets confused.

Dr. Smith likes where he works, though. He likes listening to other people's stories. He likes helping solve their problems. He likes it, but it's not right. When he looks up at the stars on the way home, not home, home is somewhere lost in London not an apartment in New York, he can almost imagine traveling through them. Visiting planets. Running.

He's always running, from work, to work, at the gym. It never feels like there is enough running anymore. And on his days off, those few weekends, he will spend hours in his workshop tinkering with wires and strange looking buttons and dials. Dr. Smith doesn't know what they do but once he got them to make a strange vwooping sound that made him think of lightning and running and freedom, and he was ecstatic. He played it deep into the night, dancing around in converse that he was never able to wear to work, old bow tie lazily tied around his neck. In the morning, when he woke up, someone had cut the wires and he has yet to reconnect them.

"Matt?" The voice of his best friend, his closest companion, startles him out of his choppy thoughts. River, curly blonde hair pulled up into an almost-bun, is standing in the open doorway. _When had that happened?_ She looks sad and lonely, but is doesn't show on her face, only in her old eyes. Her eyes should be young, bring. She should be very young, a child even. His memory skips on the reason why. "We found her, Matt. Amy and Rory found her."

"Amy and Rory?" he asks confused. Instead of answering, River doesn't answer often, she hands him an old fob watch.

"It's time to come home, sweetie." She smiles, sad and tired, but hopeful. "Open it."

And he does.


	5. Chapter 5: Alex

**How would you like to meet the Doctor? Ask me you name and a way, and I'll write you a ficlet.  
**

**Each person will be posted in the order I have received the question. If you want to have your meeting up here please review, PM me, or ask me your prompt on Tumblr. My name is superwhokidlock.  
**

**-Ray  
**

ALEX

There is a book in her lap and as she reads the world around her fades. Something about the pages, the small black words on bright white, dirt smudged, or yellowing paper took her away from real life. The stories, old ones from her childhood or something she just bought, were always fascinating. All of the characters, their lives drawn on paper like artwork in the form of thoughts, were brilliantly crafted under the deft hands of an author. It is mastery. It is wonder. It is the soul of creation.

Well, the soul of creation if one doesn't count real life. Real life gets inconvenient like that.

Harry had just entered the main chamber. He was filthy, covered in slime and rock dust from head to toe. His neck was sporting a shallow cut that stung and bled sluggishly. Ginny, Ron's little sister, was at the other end of the chamber. He could barely make out her long red hair, but that might have been because of the swamp-like consistency of the water she was laying in. Harry ran to her, dropping his wand as he slid to a stop next to her prone body. He pleaded with her to be alive, to wake up. She was so small, only a first year. A cold whisper sounded then—

"How have you survived to this age in London if you never pay attention?" a breathless voice snaps in her ear. Alex's head shoots up, eyes started and wide. She makes a sudden movement away from the man, his hands reaching for her as he steps forward. She doesn't move quite far enough, or he miscalculates and he trips over her. A knee catches a shoulder. An elbow plants itself in a stomach. Neither is much sure what happened, or who is more injured, but the man is half sprawled on top of her and just in time too.

A Dalek had shot at them, shot at the man. It misses and kills a fleeing man in a black suit. The man curses darkly. Alex knows he does despite not recognizing the language spoken. There is always a way to tell, the tone of voices, a muttered inflection that is not there expect with the darkest of curses. Swearing really doesn't enter to factor.

"Allons-y!" the man exclaims, dragging Alex to her feet by the side of her sweater. She follows. Unsure. Confused. Scared. Then run then, avoiding whatever the Daleks shoot at them. A good chunk of London passes under their feet with the aliens right on their tails. Alex doesn't know what to think and doesn't protest the futility of hiding in an antique wooded box.

"What—the hell!" she gasps out, hands on her knees to prevent the near inevitability of falling on her face. She's not much into sports, at least the physical aspect of them, and running that far is death.

The man, also out of breath but with a happy grin on his face, announces, "We'll run a lot, if you stick around that is. First though—" He twirls spectacularly, fingers dancing over an intricate control panel. Alex just now notices that the little blue box is much, much bigger on the inside.

"Why did you take me?" she asks instead of stating the obvious. It hasn't really sunk in yet. "Out of everyone in the square, why me?"

His face is serious as he fiddles with the dials. The box, room thing, gives shuddering gasp, before settling back into quiet breathing. Life swirls around her and for a moment Alex looses herself in it like one of her books. Then the man speaks. "You were reading _Harry Potter._ How could I not? Oh, by the way, I'm the Doctor."


End file.
